Destitute of Vision
by StarkLovesShawarma
Summary: "Not as beautiful as you, darling." Carlos teased, his palm running along James' jawline. The taller man grinned, looking down at his farcical husband. "And how could you possibly know that?" Jarlos


**This is crap. The result of staying up till 6am. I'll probably delete this later, but here it goes.**

I don't own Big Time Rush or anything else you may recognize in this story.

The air was crisp, thick and cold as his eyes stared blankly down his iced over drive way. Light snowflakes were raining down from the huge, overcast clouds. The ground was painted in thick white sheets of snow, making the surrounding area look almost magical. He had been living here for almost two years and Carlos would never tire of the beautiful smell of the mountian winters.

A rumbling sound could be heard from the distance, a car making its way up the long, winding driveway, cracking the ice beneath its grooved tires. Carlos stood, hearing the car door shut. The scent of body spray was apparent in the air.

"Carlos, what are you doing out here, its freezing!" James hurried over to his husband, leading him into their home. Shutting the wooden door behind himself, he shook the snow off of the bottom of his boots, setting them on the hardwood floor. The couple's house was a quite large place, looking like an urbanized log cabin. All of their furniture was modern, yet comfy and stylish.

"Why were you out there in these clothes? You couldve frozen to death," James pressed his mouth against Carlos' cold lips, casuing the shorter man to smile. The Latino was wearing nothing more than a sweat shirt and a pair of thin jeans.

"I was just getting some fresh air," Carlos snuggled into his husband's chest, the warmth of his body proving affective against the chilly air that still clung to his under-clothed body. James shook his head playfully, pulling away from him and walking over to the kitchen. He pressed a few things on the coffee pot, causing it to begin making the warm beverage.

As the day faded into night, Carlos and James sat on the big couch, the fireplace roaring in front of them. Their giant, glass paned wall exposed their dipping front yard being buried in new snow. "It looks beautiful out there," James took a sip of his coffee, pulling Carlos closer to him underneath the blanket.

"Not as beautiful as you, darling." Carlos teased, his palm running along James' unshaven jawline. The taller man grinned, looking down at his farcical husband.

"And how could you possibly know that?" The sandy haired man asked, kissing Carlos' soft black hair. The Latino shifted his position.

"I don't have to be able to see to know you're the most gorgeous thing in the world," Carlos smiled even brighter, wrapping his arms around James' broad shoulders.

As they sat there in silence, James knew that Carlos was beginning to drift to sleep. He thought about what his husband had said, and quite frankly, it made him dismal. The memories from that awful day filled his mind again, and James closed his eyes, not wanting to picture the incident.

_The teenagers were on the ice, gliding across it with a fleeting pace. Their skates were clanging against the frozen floor roughly as they ran after the third boy. James gripped his hockey stick firmly as he watched Carlos from across the rink, nodding as they skated. Deluth East was taking the lead, and there was no way in hell Carlos was going to let them win. They had already lost to them the previous week, on account of Kendall and Carlos' little show with their backsides. But that was beside the point. The object now, was to win._

He sped up as the puck was in his sights. An opposing player had it, skidding it along with his stick. Carlos went to intercept the rubber disk, when all of the sudden, he tripped over his own skate, falling to the hard ice in front of the net. On that particular day, Carlos' helmet wasn't fastened on tight enough, and it bouced off of his head when he hit the floor. Having no time to react, the Deluth East player had already swung back, smacking the puck straight into Carlos' temple. Everyone immediately stopped, running over to the unconscious teenager. James pushed the surrounding people out of the way, falling to his padded knees next to his best friend, turning him on his back.

"Carlos! Dude, wake up!" James patted the Latino's cold face, which didn't help. He feared the worst as he watched his friend ride off in the ambulance, but everyone reassured him that Carlos would be fine.

They were wrong. When James had went to visit Carlos in the hospital the next day, the raven haired boy was sitting upright in his bed, his eyes wide and blank. "Hey Carlos," James smiled. He flinched as the shorter boy jumped in suprise.

"James? Is that you?" Carlos asked, waving his arms in front of him akwardly. The sandy haired teen gasped, realizing that Carlos, was blind. 


End file.
